


Not a Fairy Tale Princess

by miera



Series: JB Holiday Tropes [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Olenna is a BAMF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22342285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: Sequel to "Not A Hallmark Heroine." Brienne is surprised to hear from Jaime again after Christmas. Margaery Tyrell is a bad influence and Olenna is, as always, a BAMF.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Series: JB Holiday Tropes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608259
Comments: 25
Kudos: 131





	Not a Fairy Tale Princess

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of people asked for a follow up to "Not A Hallmark Heroine" so here it is. Be warned, this series is a WIP and while I have ideas, I can't promise if/when I'll write another installment. 
> 
> For background, this story is set in the Washington DC area of the United States. Brienne runs an artwork conservation company in Alexandria, Virginia, and has her master's degree in conservation.

It took Brienne, Pod, and one of the other technicians all putting in overtime, but they got Jaime Lannister's book done by December 23rd. Brienne even stayed late in the office, after Jaime begged her via text to wait when he hadn't gotten there by closing time. (He was stuck in Northern Virginia traffic, which was a constant fact of life where they lived, so she cut him some slack.)

He finally arrived, in another ridiculously expensive suit but with his hair windblown and his tie askew, panting like he'd run a couple miles from wherever he'd left his car. Brienne bit her tongue as she took in those details before filing them away to be examined at a much later date, when they weren't in the middle of a business meeting.

The book was sitting in a box on the table and she had the moment of pure, professional glee when he opened the box and his jaw literally dropped. She knew if they'd had more time, she and her team could've done a more perfect job, but for Jaime's purposes what they had accomplished was enough. 

The binding had been, as she had guessed, a complete loss. They had removed it, since it was easier to treat the pages individually anyway. She had texted Jaime a few pictures from the process but she had been saving one thing for when he arrived.

With the binding gone so was the image on the cover of the book. But Pod had a friend who did graphic design work, and with some help from the internet, the man had managed to create a good replica of the original cover art. Brienne had printed it on high quality cardstock and it was tucked inside a plastic book jacket over the brand new hardcover binding. Given that the book was going to be handled by a child, the plastic cover would help protect the exterior better. 

She explained all of this in a profound ramble as Jaime lifted the book up almost with reverence and thumbed through the pages. Finally she made herself stop babbling. Jaime looked over at her and reached out and took hold of her hand. "Brienne…" She waited but he didn't say anything else, just stared at her with nearly the same look he'd been giving the book.

To her shock, Jaime lifted her hand up and pressed his lips to the delicate skin on her knuckles. His eyes shut briefly, and she felt a strange, wonderful tingling sensation run up her arm and all the way down to her toes. 

When Jaime opened his eyes they were frozen in place, gazing at each other, for a long moment. He noticed the blush on her face and seemed to remember himself suddenly, dropping her hand and taking a step backward. "I'm sorry, shit, I'm so sorry, that was not appropriate. Shit, I keep _doing_ that." 

If any other man had done what Jaime had just done, Brienne would have been furious. She would immediately have assumed that he was making a joke of her, pretending to act like some lovelorn hero, just to laugh at her for believing him. 

But this time, with this man, the anger didn't come. She honestly didn't think Jaime was making fun of her. He was so caught up in amazement over the book, he just got carried away. He was over-the-top, it was his default setting, she knew that from their one previous meeting and his text messages. It was just Jaime being Jaime, she would have bet her life on it. 

It was strange, and bittersweet. Was this what other women felt when they didn't have to assume the worst of ever man they encountered? 

Jaime was still muttering at himself, raking a hand through his already-ruffled hair. Brienne tucked her hand into her pocket and smiled genuinely at the way his hair was now standing up even more. "It's okay," she found herself saying. "I'll take that as a testament to our brilliant reconstruction work. Professional compliment." 

Jaime huffed out a laugh. "It's amazing. You're amazing. This exceeded my wildest expectations, truly." 

"In that case, please take some business cards with you and spread them around." Jaime got a strange look on his face for a second before he followed her to the desk.

They settled the bill and Jaime picked up his box. "Thank you, again, for this. You don't know what this will mean to my brother." 

"Better make sure you wrap it appropriately," she replied. "Our work deserves the best treatment."

"Wait, you mean you're not gift-wrapping it for me?" Jaime asked, feigning shock. 

Brienne rolled her eyes. "Sorry, none of us got graduate degrees in gift wrapping, you're on your own." 

He affected a haughty stance and pretended to glare. "What kind of service is that? I take it all back, this place is terrible, I'm never darkening your door again." She laughed with him as he headed for the door, where Jaime paused with his hand on the knob. His eyes caught hers and she couldn't make herself look away. "Merry Christmas, Brienne." 

His voice had gone low and soft again, sending a thrill up her spine. She replied just as softly, "Merry Christmas Jaime."

He left and Brienne locked the door behind him, grateful nobody else was around to see the flush on her face.

It was after 6pm, and she would have to spend the evening frantically packing to make her early flight the next morning to go home, but it was worth it. 

*~*~*~*~*

A few days after Christmas, Brienne was back in Alexandria. Though Sapphire Isle was closed until after New Year's, she swung by the office to check on things. Their cold storage and air purification equipment were supposed to have redundancies built in but she preferred to have someone checking the systems in person to ensure everything was working correctly. She looked at her email and saw nothing that couldn't wait, so she locked up the office and stopped by the mailbox to pick up the accumulated junk mail before heading to lunch and paying her respects to her financial backer.

During grad school, she had spent some time around Renly's on-and-off boyfriend. Loras didn't care much for her (jealous, according to Renly, which seemed ridiculous to Brienne, but the other man did seem to resent that Brienne and Renly were such close friends), but his sister Margaery had more or less adopted Brienne, to her confusion. 

Margaery Tyrell was utterly gorgeous and Brienne had not trusted her charming façade at all at first. It wasn't until a few months had gone by that Brienne realized, to her internal horror, that she'd been judging Margaery by her looks just as much as other people judged Brienne by hers. Being sweet and pretty and charming didn't mean Margaery didn't have her own problems and struggles. Eventually they had become real friends, to Loras' dismay.

It got worse when Margaery introduced Brienne to her grandmother, who took one look at Brienne and deemed her "marvelous." Olenna Tyrell was one of the richest women in the city and even in her old age remained the reigning _doyenne_ of DC society. Brienne would never have used her friendship with the Tyrell women for any personal gain – it wasn't like she had any interest in high society – but a couple years after finishing her degree, she let slip during a brunch that what she really wanted was to open her own company. 

Within a week she had a personal loan from Olenna, who insisted Brienne accept it on very generous terms, far better than anything she could have gotten from a bank. Needless to say, the Tyrells got VIP treatment for any requests they made at the conservation studio. Brienne met Olenna for lunch twice a year, ostensibly to report on how her investment was doing. The first time, Brienne had come with spreadsheets and projections at the ready, but Olenna waved a hand and ignored them, just taking Brienne's word that things were going well. 

Margaery was joining them for lunch, and Brienne listened patiently to a recap of the Tyrell family's Christmas festivities while they ate. She had little to report of her own holiday. She and her father had spent the day with her Uncle Goodwin and it had been quiet by comparison to the raft of events other people had. 

Brienne's tote bag was sitting on the chair between her and Margaery, and the latter being a nosy brat, she started poking through Brienne's mail. She frowned and lifted up a heavy, cream colored envelope, then started laughing. "Oh dear. Grandmother, I believe our Brienne is consorting with the enemy."

Brienne frowned. "What?"

Margaery held up the envelope. "That's the Lannister seal on the back." 

"Oh child, what have you gotten yourself into with that pack of hyenas?" Olenna asked plaintively.

"Nothing. I'm not _consorting_ with them. I don't consort with anyone." Brienne grabbed the envelope. "We did a job for one of the Lannisters just before Christmas. It's probably a thank you note."

"Which Lannister? Not that wretched old goat Tywin?"

"Jaime."

Margaery smirked. "Jaime, as in, the most eligible and hottest bachelor in DC? Brie, you've been holding out on us." 

Brienne didn't answer. She was staring in bewilderment at the card that was inside the envelope. In an elegant script, it said she was invited to attend the Lannister New Year's Eve ball. 

Inside was a hand-written note,

_"Brienne,_  
_I'm hoping that you will agree to be my date for my family's annual gala on New Year's Eve, if you're in town. I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to meet some potential new clients, and my brother. If the answer is no, that you're not interested, don't worry, I won't continue to pester you. Despite the evidence, I am capable of acting appropriately some of the time._  
_-Jaime._ " 

She would have needed about a week to process everything she was feeling right now, and the Tyrell women weren't going to give it to her. Margaery snatched the invitation and note out of her hand and then squealed loudly enough to shatter the glasses on the table. "Oh my God, you really have been holding out on us! How long has this been going on?" 

"It's not… there's nothing… I only met him a couple of weeks ago," she protested weakly. 

Olenna had taken the note and she fixed Brienne with a stare. "What's all this about behaving inappropriately?"

Brienne was sure she was blushing brightly enough to be seen from space. "It's nothing. Just a joke." 

"An inside joke? Private, between the two of you?" Margaery waggled her eyebrows.

"It's not like that."

"Bullshit," Olenna said decisively. "You're smitten with the man, don't try to pretend otherwise." 

She wanted to, immediately. Brienne didn't get smitten. She knew better than that. Especially when it came to men who looked like Jaime Lannister. Brienne had figured out years ago that she was either going to have to settle for someone like Hyle Hunt or be alone, and she'd chosen to be alone because putting up with the Hyles of the world just wasn't worth it. Why subject herself to men who felt she should be grateful for any attention? Why spend her time wishing for romance and intimacy when she was destined to never get them? After all that time, she wasn't going to fall for a man she'd only met twice, and she wasn't a silly teenaged girl who believed in fairy tales. Men like Jaime did not end up with women like her. 

Margaery spoke before Brienne could speak. "What are you going to wear? You have to go in heels, you'll dominate the whole room."

"What… I'm not going to _go_!" she blurted out. Did they think she would actually go to the party? Her? Brienne Tarth? As Jaime Lannister's date to anything? In public? It was ludicrous. Unthinkable. It would be throwing wide open the door and inviting humiliation into her living room, that was certain.

The other two women stared at her. "Why not?" asked Olenna, at the same time as Margaery said, "You have to go!" 

Margaery continued. "Brie, come on. One of the most gorgeous single men in the city asked you to be his date at a fancy, exclusive party. You have to do this! Thousands of women would kill for this chance, you can't say no! Even if you just go to the party with him and that's it, you can't turn down the opportunity! This is the kind of story you tell your grandkids!"

"If nothing else, you can go and report back to me what it's like," Olenna added. "The old bastard Lannister has had it in for me for twenty years, ever since I outmaneuvered him while we were on the arts center board. Now I finally have a spy to send into the enemy's camp." 

Brienne went pale at the thought. Margaery rolled her eyes.

"Grandmother, I think we all know Brienne has no gift for subterfuge."

"I'm not asking for corporate secrets, I just want to know which caterer he's using so I can avoid them." 

Brienne looked back at the note while the two women argued and read it again. It was the first sentence that was throwing her off, she decided. The rest of the note she could decode. She had made the joke about passing around business cards, after all. Jaime must have remembered and in his gratitude, thought the party would be a good chance for her to scout new customers. 

God, had she given him the impression the business was in trouble? It wasn't. But as a small business owner, Brienne knew she had to take every opportunity to find new clients. 

And the last sentence was, again, just Jaime being Jaime. It was surprisingly thoughtful of him, actually, to promise not to cross any boundaries with unwanted contact in the future. Brienne couldn't help recalling her junior year of college and having to flee campus to escape from the burly, red-headed football player who wouldn't leave her the hell alone. 

But… "date." That was what was freaking her out, really. That one word set all her internal alarm bells off. If it was just an invite to the party, she would probably be… well she'd still be surprised but not quite as thunderstruck. But men like Jaime Lannister did not _date_ women like her, not in this universe. 

Her mind brought up the sensation of Jaime kissing the back of her hand, and the sound of his voice saying her name, but she pushed that all away firmly. 

She read the note yet again. Maybe he just meant date in the generic sense? As in guest? He was right that the Lannister party would probably be rife with the kind of rich people who had antiques and artwork that might need her services, and she had made a point of mentioning networking to him. "You mentioned you wanted to get more business, I wanted to show my gratitude by helping you with that" seemed a lot more plausible than any romantic connotation of the word "date." 

In any case, that was certainly a safer assumption than any other interpretation.

She looked back up to find the other two staring at her expectantly. "Well?" 

Brienne sighed. "I'll go."

"Yes!" Margaery threw her hands up in the air. "Okay we're leaving grandmother with the check, we have so much shopping to do!" 

Brienne shrank into her seat. What was she getting herself into?


End file.
